


Nice Cream in the Rain

by NekoAbunai



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BeastTale, Big Sans, Eventual Smut, Female Reader, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It's not too bad but it's still bad, Mages, Multi, Optimistic Reader, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Promise I'll try to finish this one, Racism, Reader-Insert, Woah another fic how original, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-06 19:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11042421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAbunai/pseuds/NekoAbunai
Summary: Magi, Monsters, Humans. Oh boy.Ebott City has accepted magic, to a point. Humans without magic are the majority, Monsters are tolerated, and Magi are feared. When you (the reader) comes crashing into the lives of a certain group of monsters, how will you be accepted? Will you be accepted?Let's be honest, you probably will, but I don't want to drop the suspense, so let's hop right into this.Criticism is encouraged. Tell me what I have done wrong! I just wanna knooooooooooowwww!





	1. Crashing

Ebott city morning were great. Gentle colors graced the slowly waking city and lit the sparse streets and gave a slight warmth to the crisp air. While it was summer, Mt. Ebott and surrounding areas were notorious for cool weather year-round.

The park bench you relaxed on was slightly damp from the dew, but you let the serene peace of the quiet streets tug up your lips into a smile. You could hear a few dogs and a couple of horns, but, despite the city generally being busy, this morning was overall quiet.

A buzz of your cell phone drew your lazy attention back to focus on the email you just received. A location you vaguely were able to place popped up on the screen. Ah, work. The burden of being an adult. Fortunately, you could always find some happiness in your job. Then again, you found some joy in your part-time at Sonic. Mary Poppins eat your heart out.

Closing your phone and tucking it into the back pocket of your shorts, you leaned over, adjusting your skates. You stood up, bending at your knees until you were properly balanced, and gave a glance around, getting your bearings.

A shift of your weight and you were off, staying to the wide sidewalks, seeing as there were so few people up this early, but just enough cars on the road to warrant some attention. As you skated along the sleepy city streets, you caught sight of some monsters. Not that it was particularly difficult to come across them. Most monsters towered over humans, lending to their overall intimidating appearances. Many had narrowed eyes, exposed teeth, and a fashion sense of ripped clothing and spiked collars.

Not that you feared any you were acquainted with. Despite the large stature and growls some gave, you found them generally nice, if treated nicely. They weren’t necessarily gentle giants, as there were a few that would kick a human’s ass seven ways to Sunday if the human wronged them, but most were fairly nice.

You gave the rabbit couple ahead of you some space, hopping onto the asphalt and into traffic. In general, you didn’t like scaring people you didn’t know. Monsters and magi being the general target of this tactic. Both had a tendency to react with sudden violence. Monsters at least had the decency to stop and apologise or try and talk the disagreement through, while a mage would generally react indignantly and/or finish their attack on you, similar to how they had reacted when monsters had surfaced from the Underground years ago.

During the initial stages of integration into human society, monsters had done their best to cooperate and peacefully work through the hiccups along the way, guided by their little Ambassador. While hate groups had made things especially difficult, when it came down to the magi and their opinion, the support shifted heavily in favor of the monsters, not for lack of trying by the magi.

Humans are notorious for their detestment of anything they perceived as stronger than them. Magi were generally viewed as power-hungry, narcissistic, and very snobby, looking down on humans and monsters alike. Thus, when magi cried for monsters to be sent back to the underground, enslaved, or placed as second-class citizens, humans saw a kinship with monsters. Magi had long been outspoken on their views about humans, denying them positions of power and using their magic to keep humans from interfering with magic affairs.

Human support for monster integration skyrocketed, leaving many political figures with no option but to allow monsters full citizenship. Magi were still viewed as powerful, but now were cowed with the knowledge that another group had power equivalent to their own.

You took a wide turn, curving into a side street and then to a dingy-looking diner with its greasy windows thrown wide open. It was empty, except for the man working at the counter. The flickering fluorescent light illuminating his bald head and the gray washcloth doing little more than spreading the grease on the counter around.

With a large grin, you raised your hand in greeting, getting you a narrow-eyed glare in response as you slowed to a halt in front of a stool.

“Hey, Hal, how’s it going?” you asked, tugging a glove off your right hand. “You got something to drink while I’m doing my thing?” Hal growled a little, ducking down beneath the counter before returning with two glass objects. One was an empty milkshake glass, the other, a jar with etchings all over the sides of it and a lid with a glyph drawn. He took the milkshake glass away, leaving me with the jar.

You gave your right hand a look, feeling your upbeat mood drop slightly as you regarded the glyphs on your palm. Black runes stared back at you as magic collected under it in preparation. With a sigh, you placed your hand over the jar, wincing as a bite of pain started the transfer.

You didn’t hate your job. You just didn’t like that this was the only job that was available for Inerts. So what if you couldn’t use magic for anything? That didn’t make you less than any other mage! You produced magic faster than any other creature could possibly hope to generate! Not even the strongest mages could boast the amount you produced!

You gave an annoyed glance at the jar beside you, watching your magic fall like liquid from the top of the glass. You weren’t useless. You weren’t.

A milkshake slid into view from your side, and you took the opportunity to not continue down the well-worn path of contemplation about your place in this world. Giving Hal a pleased quirk of the mouth, you sipped the delicious treat up and gave a hum of appreciation. With your left hand you reached back and fished your phone out. A text from your boss told you Hal had made the transfer to the company’s bank account for your delivery and an empty unread message screen did little to dampen your milkshake joy.

You let the minutes pass, hearing the whoosh of cars racing outside as a half-hour was all it took for the city to get moving. Checking your news, you felt a little dent in your overall morning as you scrolled through an article about the recent murders. The police had difficulty finding any kind of evidence left behind. The shootings had little to no DNA evidence left behind and there were no bullets left behind. You entertained the thought of bullets being made of ice, melting and leaving no trace after the murder, but ultimately decided that there was no way that was ever something to come into existence and even work.

Another half-hour later, you looked to the jar and saw it full to the brim with magic. You detached your hand from the jar, quickly sliding your glove back on and clearing your throat to get Hal’s attention. He raised his brow as he turned away from the clean up he was performing and you gave a small jerk of your head to point out the full jar. His brows climbed higher as he came closer to inspect.

“I’ll say that’s done, girlie,” his gruff voice held some surprise. “I ain’t ever seen that much magic in one place.” He gave you a once-over. “You good, girlie?”

You gave a quick nod, and stood, adjusting to being back on your skates rather than your seated position. “Yup.” You gave a little stretch, getting your blood flowing again. “Thank you for your business and remember to always choose Iota’s Delivery for your magical needs.”

With that said, you turned and returned to the streets, heading back to the park you had been relaxing in prior to your call-in.

The sun was higher in the sky, warming up your skin much more than the air-conditioned, poorly-lit diner. You let your happiness push your chest out and kept to relaxed motions on your way back. The sidewalks were still sparse, but had a few people to maneuver around.

Giving a slight smug glance to the street, you went over how your skating was clearly superior to those traffic-stuck plebs. Skating was so much healthier and enjoyable than driving could ever be. Traffic jam? No issue, just weave through people. Road rage? Please, conflicts are better solved face to face than angry honking. Sitting at lights? Do these glutes look like they sit?

You took pride in the work you put into your body. Sure you might not have the biggest rack, but at least running up and down stairs wasn’t a big issue. You caught a glimpse of yourself in a tinted window, allowing some of your pride to show on your face at the toned thighs and calves that raced along with you. Hair under the helmet was tugged slightly by the breeze and sun-kissed skin blew by the reflection.

Feeling a certain amount of confidence, you sped up just a tad.

Yes, you can be proud of something you could control. You controlled your body, and you could take pride in things you accomplished. Well-being and safety, you had all in your hands. You were constantly aware of your surroundings, avoiding people and never colliding with obstacles.

A stray strand of hair fell across your face, obstructing your vision just a bit. You brushed it away blinking just for a moment. What was a clear sidewalk suddenly had a huge, blue obstruction in it. One that you were certain hadn’t been there a moment ago. Then again, you weren’t blacked out a moment ago.


	2. Collision from Another Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y’all! I know what you’re thinking. Whaaa? Another update? And so soon?! That’s right! I have a lot of ideas floating around when it come to this story and I’m really wanting to play around in this world that has sprouted from my head. That being said, let me remind you that I do not own Beasttale. The Beasttale AU was made by @get-rammed on tumblr, so feel free to head on over and check out that bisnasty.  
> Enjoy this chapter, brought to you by Sumatriptan.
> 
> This chapter contains a Sans POV. I really hope you don't mind that, I just want to see how it'll help with the world-building. :3c

Sans hadn’t really been sure what to think. He’d just woken up to the sound of pots and pans from the kitchen downstairs, giving the ceiling its usual glare as though it were to blame for all the noise his brother had been kicking up. He rolled over and felt for his phone, pawing around his bed and bedside table, coming up empty.

Further annoyed, he sat up and gave actual effort for looking for the device. He pulled up the sheets and checked under his pillow, grumbling slightly. He checked the floor, feeling his tail beginning to swipe across the sheets in annoyance as there was nothing but socks, ketchup, and leftovers near his bed.

Sans clambered off his bed and turned to face it, tail lashing behind him as he let his magic flow over the mattress, grabbing it and flinging it to the ceiling. He found his phone. It was wedged between the mattress and the wall. Somehow he didn’t break it in a fit of rage. 

He plopped into a lazy heap on the bed, taking out the phone and checking for missed messages. As usual, there was the daily reminder to go to his job on time. And as usual, he dismissed the message in favor of messages from friends and family. Papyrus had texted him to “GET OUT OF BED, YOU LAZY BONES,” and Toriel had given him a few breakfast puns to start the day off right. Alphys had asked him about that job offer she given him to work at the lab, yet another message ignored, and had received a text from Asgore.

He raised his bone brows at that. Usually the King would visit in person if he wanted anything done. Sans chalked it up to the business of Asgore’s schedule and his wife and adopted child’s encouragement to become more tech-savvy.

With a lazy flick, Sans opened the message, giving a quick readthrough. Investigate the recent murders? Stealthily. Well, that’s why Asgore asked him instead of Undyne or Papyrus. But that left the question of why? Why investigate the murders of humans and need it to be under the radar.

The large skeleton leaned back, contemplating the issue. If there were more monster murders, surely Asgore would abandon all tact and address the issue head-on, but humans? The King wasn’t heartless, but he didn’t have much of a paw in human affairs that didn’t pertain to monsters. Concern for the Ambassador? Possible, but that could easily be remedied with extra guards on top of the almost constant surveillance of Toriel and Undyne.

Nibbling a phalange, Sans started settling in for a full on brainstorming session, but was interrupted by his third alarm to wake up and grab a bite to eat. He took a deep breath in, catching the smell of eggs and bacon. His mind immediately put itself to a better use: making puns.

He rolled off his bed into the void with a pop, disappearing for just a moment from reality and reappearing downstairs in his chair. Papyrus had his back turned toward Sans, busy with the food. Perfect.

He relaxed into the chair, taking some of the comfort in the familiar settings. The room was tall, reaching high to compensate for the height of monsters in general, but this house was especially suited for Papyrus’ height. The cabinets were higher than most humans could reach on the tips of their toes while the bottom storage under the counters lacked the most bottom drawers, also suited for monsters. Sans let a small glow of pride for this house, the gold both he and Papyrus had accumulated Underground going into the unique construction of the house. Papyrus had so much room to move, much more than the Underground, and he took a certain amount of happiness he had in cooking when he actually needed to fully extend his arm to reach for a salt shaker and move his elbows without fear of jostling anything around him.

Inspiration hit Sans as the light from one of the large windows warmed his bones, his permanent grin hiking up just a bit more as he envisioned the reaction.

“i love this side of the kitchen,” he chuckled. “ _ eggs always sunny side up _ .”

“SANS!” The tall skeleton whipped around to fix a glare on his brother. “NO! NO PUNS THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING!” He held the two plates in his hands high up. “I SHALL NOT FEED YOU IF YOU INSIST ON PERSISTING WITH THESE TERRIBLE PUNS!”

Shrugging his shoulders, Sans said, “i guess these puns aren’t all as they’re  _ cracked _ up to be.” An eye socket twitched. “sometimes folks don’t get the  _ yolk _ .” The sound of steam hissed from the sides of Papyrus’ skull. “geez, bro, you look  _ steamed _ , why not let this go  _ over-easy _ ?”

With that, Papyrus threw a slice of bacon at his brother with an indignant “NYEH!” The slap of the meat on the wall where Sans had previously been sitting in front of granted Papyrus a full-belly chuckle from his older brother. “no need to get  _ scrambled _ , bro.”

Sans stepped back into a shortcut, aiming to get away from the scream of rage and to land near the park. He had a small chuckle at his brother’s antics right before something struck him from the side, knocking the proverbial wind out of him.

With the knee-jerk reaction, his elbow came up in surprise, knocking into the hard object he had just collided with. White pinpricks disappeared to a dark black in his sockets when he heard something fall to the ground, like a sandbag falling to the floor. He’d heard this after he had knocked a few heads in his past dealings with anti-monster groups.

A quick look down at the figure sprawled on the ground proved him right. There lay a human, daylights knocked out of them from the elbow to the side of the head. He saw a red spot near their temple, somehow missing their helmet entirely and wedging his elbow into one of the pressure points on a human body. Based on the wheels still spinning, they hadn’t really had time to stop prior to bumping into him, not that he could really blame the human; he had appeared from nowhere.

Leaning over, the skeleton did his best to assess the damage. He wasn’t well versed in human physiology, but he was aware that it wasn’t a fatal blow he delivered. Sans sighed in relief at the rise and fall of the human’s chest. He gave the heap a little shake, hoping to wake it up before he found trouble with any authorities, but there was no response. The tiny human at least had blood pumping under their skin and there was no blood leaking from the nose or ears, further reassuring Sans that he wouldn’t have to be put on trial for a simple mistake and knee-jerk reaction. They’d have to be a pretty pathetic human to die due to colliding with a skeleton.

With a quick glance around, he realized it’d be preferable to skedaddle. Leaving the unconscious human was out of the question, what with the recent shootings and the obvious issues of leaving an unconscious… female? He gave the human a quick sniff, picking up the faint smell of rosemary and the distinct smell of a female. Yes, female. There was a big issue with leaving an unconscious female in the middle of the street. Taking the human to his job wasn’t really an option, again unconscious human near a monster. Not a match made in heaven.

Sans sighed, picking the human up as he straightened out and gave a glance around. No one was giving him any attention, other than that one human across the street, eyes fixed on the skeleton and the little human in his arms. With a nervous look toward the human, he dropped through the void to his home.

 

 

Landing with a  _ whoomph _ on the beaten, pea green couch, Sans gently set the human down, momentarily struck with just how small she was on the couch. Feeling slightly doting, he adjusted her to the most comfortable position he could think of. Deftly removing the helmet, he checked for more injuries, and was relieved to find no more. Just a little bruise forming on the side of the human’s face. As he recalled, ice was good for that, maybe he could ask Papyrus to get him some for this strange little human.

Standing up and adjusting the human on the couch, Sans tugged the skates off the human’s feet and left to the kitchen to inform Papyrus of their new guest. The taller skeleton was washing plates and pans in the overly large sink, humming a little tune that Sans realized was the theme from Mettaton’s new show.  _ perfect, he’s singing the calculator’s tune. _

“hey bro,” Sans approached. “hope i’m not  _ brother _ ing ya, but i got a surprise for ya.”

Papyrus looked back with an unreadable expression on his face, squinting his sockets at Sans, but leaving the pun alone. “SANS, I THOUGHT YOU HAD LEFT FOR WORK! HOW THE STARS DO YOU EXPECT TO KEEP A JOB IF YOU CONTINUE TO SLACK OFF AND ARRIVE LATE AT YOUR LEISURE?!”

Sans grimaced, thinking of ways to explain this to his boss if he were to miss the whole day. “look, paps, i need you to do something for me while i head off to work to explain some stuff to the bossman.” Papyrus raised a brow, but nodded slowly, setting down the dish he was soaping up.

“alright. she’s in the living room, try not to bother her too much. if she wakes up before i get back, try to make sure she doesn’t have a concussion. get her some ice for her head.” With that, Sans stepped into a shortcut, leaving Papyrus blinking, trying to follow what he was just told.

…

“SANS WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I sure had a lot of fun writing this in the short time I challenged myself with. Feel free to tell me what you thought down in the comments. Did you like this chapter? Was there anything that you found confusing or weird? Was this chapter too short? Hit me with your best shot! I'll be writing up another chapter soon! The floodgates are open, the words are coming. There is no stopping me now!


	3. Lull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, boy, This is a late one. I’ve still been having migraines but seeing as this seems like a stress reliever, I’m going to continue writing and see where it takes me:3. In other news, I have a job! It’s pretty time consuming, but money is money and I get a certain amount of satisfaction from earning (through lots of customer service nightmares) the money, no matter how little the payment is.  
> This chapter was brought to you by Excedrin Migraine and several songs in the early morning and late evening.

Why was it dark?

 

Why was it cold?

 

Why the heck did your head hurt so much?

You slowly felt yourself come to, the feeling of numbness slowly receding as you twitched your fingers and gave a small groan. Pain radiated from your head, a steady throbbing on your right, prompting you to curl up into a ball and place a hand to your temple.

Jolting when your fingers came across something cold, your mind began to pick up the pace, registering a soft surface under you, a cold object pressed to your head, and a plethora of smells you couldn’t really identify off the top of your head. Ketchup? What a weird thing to smell…

You opened your eyes slowly, looking into a green cushion you had never seen in your life. Slowly sitting up, you felt the cold drop off onto the couch you were on. It was an ice pack. You picked it back up and placed it to where the pain in your head was from, wincing at both the cold and the pressure.

Turning around, you surveyed your surroundings. It looked to be a regular suburban house, with a few couches and a television in what you presumed to be the living room. A coffee table had a few books scattered across it. Sudoku sat next to crossword puzzle books with a chewed pencil adjacent to the books. Word scrambles lay neatly in a pile on the table, the furthest away from the crossword puzzles as it could possibly be.

The windows around the room were large and had the curtains drawn. You could see the door out to the world and a staircase up further into the unfamiliar house. The only strange thing you could really point out with the house would be the placement of the kitchen under the upstairs landing. That and the fact that this house was scaled up more than any human’s house.

You shifted to get off the couch, legs hanging above the ground by a few inches. The coffee table came up to your chest and you felt slightly like a mouse when you dropped from the couch and saw the room for the giant’s room it was.

Curious, you stumbled around, quite dizzy from the pain in your head, walking around. The bookcases stretched higher than you could reach, the books within reach being a selection of joke books or of the scientific variety. You were about to move on when you saw it. Something unforgivable.

The humorous books and scientific had no order. Your fingers twitched as you felt something akin to revulsion welling up in you at the sight. The titles had no rhyme or reason to their ordering, authors were mixed up to no end, and publication dates had no influence on the placement of the books. They weren’t even ordered based on the type of book, soft cover joke book wedged between two hardcover encyclopedias.

Yes, it was another person’s house. No, you had no right to reorder their books, maybe they had a system. Their system was wrong, but still, the fact stood that you had no business bothering their bookca-

Huh, would you look at that, you were on the floor with all the offending books off the shelf. And wouldn’t you know it, your hands were on the books and sliding them back onto the shelf, ordering based on author name. Your ice pack lay abandoned next to you while you worked to correct this sin.

Unbeknownst to you, you were being watched.

This person sure had a lot of literature about monsters, although most of it was gently-used. The spines weren’t broken in at all and most had very little curved edges. The worst damage was large claw marks that looked a lot more like they were mistakes rather than anger.

“HUMAN!”

You yelped in surprise, tossing a book on puns into the air and collapsing to the floor as the silence was broken by a screeching voice. Tossing your head to look behind you, a splash of red caught your attention. Scarlet boots sat eye-level with you. Tilting back, you followed the boots up to long, off-white tibias which rose to eventually connect to an enormous skeleton leaning over you with its skull in an expression of confusion.

Disregarding the impossibility of bone creasing and buckling to force such an expression, you leaned back further to give the monster a better view of your face.

“Hi!” you gave the biggest smile you could. “Who’re you?” The skeleton tilted its head a tad before it stood up straight and pressed a gloved hand to its chest, throwing its skull back and tossing its chest forward, striking a mighty pose.

“I, SILLY HUMAN, AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” It proclaimed in a scratchy voice that made you cringe, partly from the pitch of the voice, but mostly from the volume at which it boasted its name. The skeleton looked down at you again. “BUT, AS THIS IS MY HOME AND MY BROTHER’S MESSY BOOKSHELF, I BELIEVE A MORE APPROPRIATE INQUIRY WOULD BE FROM ME, ASKING YOU ABOUT WHO YOU MIGHT BE.”

His home? You gave the room another once-over. That would explain the overly-tall furniture and the exaggerated height of the room. The air conditioning and the heating bill must be hell on earth to pay, although with monsters that must be an expected expense on most all goods, what with the extra material needed.

With a toss of your head, you refocused and held your arm out, raised to meet him. “I’m y/n! Nice to meet you, Papyrus!” The skeleton leaned over to grasp your gloved hands with their own, yanking you to your feet with a “NYEH!”

As soon as your hand was released, the room spun and swam in response to the fast motion. Holding your head and rubbing your temple you looked up… and up… and up to give Papyrus your full attention.

“So, Papyrus, while it is great and all to meet you, I’ve got to wonder something.” The skeleton gave an excited expression. “How’d I get here?”

Papyrus’ skull took on an expression you just KNEW bone couldn’t make without several mallets to it. His (you were certain by now that this skeleton was a male) pose screamed discontent that wasn’t directed at you, but the glove directly under his mandible did hint at some contemplation.

“HUMAN, I CAN ANSWER THAT QUESTION TO AN EXTENT!” He replied. “BUT I WOULD PREFER TO TALK IN THE KITCHEN WHERE WE CAN ENJOY SOME ARTISAN PASTA!” Stepping back, Papyrus swept a long arm to gesture to under the arch on the other end of the room. With a quick sniff, you detected the lovely scent of garlic and oil wafting from that exact area.

Now, you knew exactly how bad this situation could turn out. Waking up in a place you had never been? With a head injury? A monster you had never seen before offering you food and not answering your perfectly reasonable questions? It could turn out very badly if you were to follow the nice, huge skeleton to the most wonderful kitchen with beautiful cream walls and adorable ceiling lights made of these perfect purple crystals and partake in spaghetti with just the right amount of parmesan and hands-down the best pasta you’d had in forev-

  
  


...Damnit…

  
  


Suspicious behavior be damned, this spaghetti was worth the possible kidnapping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord, this was a short one. I kinda wanted to push this one out before I get another long migraine. I hope y'all enjoyed it all the same. More chapters will be coming out soon, seeing as my migraines /should/ be letting up as I now have a new medication I'm taking.  
> Fun fact: I downloaded Grammarly to help me write this chapter coherently, but it couldn't solve a specific sentence that just. Wouldn't. Correct. So that specific sentence is just deleted.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope I didn't write the reader too strangely. Is she too optimistic? Too prideful? Too contemplative?
> 
> Seeing as my laptop is the dumbest thing in the universe, I can't promise updates on a reliable calendar, but I do have some time open for writing in my busy schedule. I hate leaving things unfinished and I'll be doing my best to continue writing this. Hopefully you will stick around for more of the stuff I write at 11p.m. - 2 a.m. while on migraine medication. Tell me your opinions down in the comments, I'll try to respond often and civilly.


End file.
